Close for Comfort
by speaknowbeloud
Summary: When Hannah comes back to Washington, her sights are set on Booth, but to our luck , Brennan's not the type of person to back down. WARNING: OOC, but worth the read! Rating because I'm extremely paranoid. Just a couple of not-so-great words.
1. Chapter 1

**So here we go, first fanfic ever! In case you're wondering, I'm really not that good at this: as wonderful as my original ideas may be, I cannot be true to characters which are not mine. Thus, this is probably going to end up being very AU.**

**Oh yes, and DISCLAIMER: if this really were mine, would I have mentioned in the above paragraph that these are not my characters? I think not. Plus there are many many things I would've changed in the script (e.g. Zach is not a psycho, Vincent Nigel Murray is still alive, and we wouldn't have waited SIX WHOLE YEARS to finally see Booth and Brennan get together).**

**Stevens Angel, sorry it took me so long to finish this, but you really shouldn't have taken so long to put up the second chapter of 'of reading', so it's my little form of revenge.**

There were three things that Temperance Brennan did not like: psychology, pregnancy hormones, and at the moment, Seeley Joseph Booth.

"Booth!" she called, annoyed. She crossed her arms over the bump of her belly, thankful that there was at least one thing she could appreciate about her pregnancy. Shuffling her feet so that they wouldn't swell, she peered around the racks of baby clothing to where Booth was eagerly stuffing a cartful of things. "Booth, we've got to go, we've got a case!"

"Relax, the guy's dead. It's not like he's going to miss us," Booth teased, picking up a pink dress. It was lacy and frivolous and Brennan wouldn't let her daughter wear it in a million years. "Look, don't you think she's going to look precious in this?"

"Don't be ridiculous," Brennan snapped, mentally cursing Booth at his ability to get under her skin- and somehow, into her heart. "Although we can assume she will inherit traits from both of us, there is no way for us to know exactly what trait she will inherit from whom. Therefore, we cannot assume our daughter is going to look nice in that!"

"Precious, Bones," Booth muttered, trying to find the tag on the dress, "the word I used is precious. 'Nice' will not even begin to describe how beautiful our little girl is going to be."

Brennan let out an exaggerated sigh, shifting her weight again. "Booth, we can argue about this later. We have work to do. Plus, you are the one who complained about the price of our house. How can you refuse to pay less than 50% for our house but be perfectly fine with spending hundreds of dollars on clothes which we don't even know will look good on our daughter?"

Booth huffed, shuffling through a pile of socks and trying to find a pair that matched. "Everything will look good on our girl. I'll make it look good."

"Booth, you can't make something look good on her! Physical traits and appearances must be taken into consideration before you factor in clothing, not-" she huffed as Booth pretended to check how a child's skirt would look on her – "not after."

"Bones, Bones, Bones," Booth chanted, shaking his head with a small smirk on his lips. "Look, okay, I'm just going to pay for this stuff and then we can go look at the dead guy in the pond-"

"The deceased was found in a lake, not a pond. There is a difference, you know."

"Whatever, Bones," he teased. "Let's go, babe."

"Don't call me-"

"I know, I know. But think of it this way." Booth pushed the full cart into a corner, then wrapped an arm protectively around Brennan, spreading his fingers over the side of her large belly, "you used to hate it when I called you 'Bones', maybe one day..."

"No, I'd much rather you called me Bones." Brennan let Booth pull her towards the door, absentmindedly picking on the zipper of her jacket. "'Babe' is a commonly used nickname which can often suggest a predetermined opinion made solely on appearance. It's not very specific. 'Bones' is a name you picked out specifically for me after learning more about me. It's more...unique."

"Yeah, yeah," Booth teased, his smirk widening. His arm tightened around her, pulling her closer to his side before steering her out of the store. The mall was jam-packed with shoppers who walked eagerly from one store to another, arms heavy with already-filled bags. Brennan couldn't help but notice how the crowd seemed to part around her, and a pregnant glow rose to her skin. It was hard to decide whether she considered this to be annoying, due to the fact that she was pregnant and not crippled; or whether she considered this to be beneficial, due to the fact that it was much easier to navigate through the crowded corridors when the others were cooperating with her.

"Damn it," Booth muttered behind her, his voice only barely reaching her ears. "I forgot, I need to buy a new tie." His hand slipped from her belly to the small of her back, giving her a small nudge before turning back and shouldering his way through the crowd.

Brennan, shocked, turned around. Her pregnancy and the crowd made her slower, though; by the time she managed to turn herself and her belly 180 degrees, Booth was only recognizable by the wide expanse of his shoulders covered in the black fabric of his suit. "Booth, you have a million ties already," she called, hoping desperately that he'd turn around. _Damn these hormones, I shouldn't be feeling this needy. _"Booth!"

She let out a huff, stomping her left foot as her hormones swished her to a new emotion: anger. She winced as her feet complained, tired of holding up her entire body weight for an hour of watching Booth looking through clothes she'd _known _he wouldn't buy. Her breath whooshed out of her again, and she spun on her heel, not thinking about the consequences.

Because oh, there were consequences. A small shockwave of dull pain spread through her belly as she ran into someone, followed closely by a wave of dizziness. Rationality kicked in, and she spread her legs and arms to keep from falling.

"Sorry, sorry, sorry!" a voice chanted, over and over, as Brennan tried to clear the blur which was her vision. A shape began to form in front of her: two thin lines (legs wearing black pants); even thinner lines (stiletto heels) below them; a white blob (a shirt?); long blonde hair swishing in front of her face.

Brennan blinked a couple more times, focused on gathering her balance. So focused, in fact, that she didn't notice the sharp intake of breath that the person in front of her took, the hand that fluttered to her chest. So focused, she didn't notice the small step back that the person took away from her, the suddenly nervous atmosphere which replaced the previous apologetic one. So focused, she didn't notice the way the person's eyes flickered to the wide shoulders walking away from them, the black of the suit covering them still distinctive even in the crowd.

Another couple of breaths, another couple of blinks, and the world righted itself again. The dull roar of the crowd started up in her ears again, the stifling heat pulled a blush out of her skin, fabric rustled against her sleeves as the crowd moved around her, parting to adapt to her presence. The world cleared and sharpened, and the figure in front of her suddenly became horrifyingly clear.

Long, wavy blonde hair. Thin, high eyebrows. Light blue eyes which had carefully observed Brennan a million times over, forcing a bitter wave of contempt, anger, and bile up her throat every time.

"Hannah."

**Short but (hopefully) sweet, that's just how I roll. **

**I'll try not to keep you guys hanging for too long. Unfortunately, I'm currently hanging myself...I really have no idea where to go with this story.**

**Reviews, please; I'll be waiting with fingers crossed!**

***speaknowbeloud**


	2. Memories

**Okay, chapter two! THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THE REVIEWS, gave me a lot of inspiration! It's great that you guys like this, it makes me happy :) Meanwhile I've been reading spoilers and although this one is spoiler free (due to it's AU nature), it did guilt me into writing more. So let me just say: you want me to write faster, PM me spoilers *hint hint* :P**

** This one's a little different, definitely a little more angsty. Hannah's getting a little more persistent and Bones is getting a little more discouraged. I'm not planning to keep her that way, though: just another mood swing ;P She's a little more jealous as well...look, would you just read it? :)**

**Oh yes, and a reminder: THIS IS OOC. This is my one chance to make this go my way. I'd love to see this happen on screen, but we all know it's not gonna happen, right?**

**DISCLAIMER: Don't make me cry.**

**(special thanks to nertooold54, Quarterbreed, jsboneslover, and Stevens Angel for the opinions and ideas!)**

**(And Stevens Angel, I want that third chapter from 'of reading'. Like, now.)**

"Fracture to the radial…"

"Flecks of dirt on his…"

"Greenstick fracture to the…"

Brennan swayed, her focus drifting in and out as she examined the bones in front of her. Cam poked and prodded at the loose flesh, as Finn Abernathy picked up and examined each bone, Hodgins teased out specks of particulates off the clothing, and Angela stared intently at the skull, mentally doing a reconstruction.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Cam looked up, her brown eyes full of worry.

"Ma'am, she's right," Finn said, his accent soft. "Maybe you should sit down?"

"Sweetie," Angela said, reaching out carefully, "Finn's right. You should…"

"Sit down," Brennan finished, and four pairs of eyes turned to stare at her incredulously.

"Maybe I need to sit down," Hodgins muttered as Brennan walked away, her pregnancy turning the walk into a sort of penguin waddle. "Did she just agree to rest?"

Cam turned to him, the same puzzled look reflected in her eyes.

Brennan opened her office door with shaky fingers, her feet and legs already tired, just from the short walk. An ominous stack of paperwork stared her down, but she ignored it, waddling towards the swivel chair pushed in at her desk. She pulled it out in one swift move, sitting down heavily and leaning back slightly. That silky thread of control was slipping through her fingertips, and she grasped uselessly at it, trying to maintain at least the sense of it by rearranging the papers into neat, organized piles.

It was useless, and she knew it. Leaning forward as well as she could, she rested her elbows on the desk and her forehead in her palms. She wanted to forget, but it kept nagging at the back of her brain, again and again and again.

Hannah was back.

A low groan escaped her throat as she leaned back again, massaging her temples with her fingertips. She could remember a time when Hannah had been close to becoming one of her best friends, slowly clawing her way to the same rank as Angela. Sure, she'd been extremely disappointed with the change in directions when she'd come back to D.C. at first: somewhere in her mind, she'd expected things to evolve when they came back. She'd missed him, as much as she tried to deny it; and the level on which she'd missed him had been much, much higher than 'just friends'.

But then she'd met Hannah, and she'd found it immeasurably harder to hate Hannah. The journalist was kind, talkative, and had a knack for lighting up the room the moment she walked in. It had been near impossible to hate her, and after a while she'd quit trying. Even when Hannah had taken her spot in Booth's heart, even when she'd slowly been pushed to the edges.

Slowly, Brennan turned around and rested her ankles on the edge of her desk, hoping it would help lower the swelling in her feet and toes. She could still remember, crystal clear, the way she'd felt when he'd opened that old phone, large and heavy enough to knock someone out. She remembered the pride that filled her heart, at being able to give him something he liked. And she remembered - with an angry blush - chorusing 'you're welcome' with Hannah. She remembered the embarrasment, the way her stomach churned, and turned around to leave. Oh, she knew when she wasn't welcome.

And yet, Hannah had been her friend. She found it impossible to hate her, impossible to ignore Hannah, because _she made Booth so happy. _How could she take that away from him? Even the threat of marriage which had loomed over their heads hadn't been enough to make her hate Hannah (although it had made her nauseous, the thought of having a Booth-Burley wedding, the thought of Hannah constantly being around, being able to _kiss _him and _touch _him when that was a right she wanted to herself).

And then, _and then_, Hannah had turned Booth down. She'd had it all, that closed-minded woman, and she'd thrown it all away. Brennan was being hypocritical, she knew: she'd turned down Booth herself, as much as it had broken her heart; but it was so easy, so easy to feel relief that she was gone, so easy to feel happy to be the only girl in Booth's heart again, so easy to hate Hannah and the way she'd turned everyone's lives upside down.

"Sweetie?" There were two sharp raps on the door before Angela poked her head in, before slipping in and closing the door behind her. "Sweetie, you sure you're okay?"

"I'm fine, Angie," Brennan sighed, forcing a small smile onto her face. "But," she thought of quickly, putting down her feet painfully and shuffling papers, "I've got work to do."

"Sweetie-"

"I'll talk to you later, Angie. Don't worry. I will."

Angela gave her a look, her eyes settling on the expanse of Brennan's belly. Her thoughts were clear in her eyes: _'Pregnancy hormones, huh?'_

"Angie, please."

"Hmm," Angela murmured, turning around and leaving, the door shutting quietly behind her.

Brennan shook off the urge to cry in self-pity, instead pretending to work while thinking back to the mall.

_"Hannah," she'd said, her voice filled with disbelief, a small wave of contempt and bile rising up her throat. Hannah had blown it a long time ago. She had no place here._

_ "Temperance." It was so strange, she'd thought, hearing her name. She was so used to Brennan, to Tempe, to Bones, anything but Temperance. Even her dad hardly called her Temperance._

_ "How have you been?" Hannah's voice was strained, the awkwardness seeping into the air. Even the crowd around her seemed to sense it, their eyes turning away from the pregnant woman and her 'friend'._

_ "I've been good," she said shortly, watching as Hannah's eyes drifted downwards towards her belly. She seemed both amused and confused, and she wondered if Hannah somehow knew. It had been torturous, the thought of a pregnant Hannah, and she'd often thought of the 'favour' she'd asked Booth for just before his brain tumour. She'd wondered what would've happened if she'd used it, if she'd had a kid who was half-Booth; how Hannah would've reacted…_

_ Shaking herself back to reality, she cleared her throat. "How have you been, Hannah?"_

_ "I've been…okay." The last word was curt, as if she was lying. Spending so much time with Booth had given her a kind of feel for psychology, and Hannah was obviously lying._

_ "So," Hannah continued, looking up at Brennan. "I see you're pregnant, congratulations!"_

_ "Oh," Brennan said, a little bit of surprise creeping into her voice. "Thank you." Jealousy was quenched by the wave of relief that rose over her. Hannah didn't know. _Maybe, _she thought, _hopefully, Hannah will leave before Booth comes back.

_ "He must be a lucky guy!" A fake smile plastered Hannah's face, and her eyes carefully scanned the crowd, as if she was trying to find Booth. A wave of jealousy overrode the relief, and Brennan straightened her spine, trying to cover Hannah's view. _

_ "Of course he is," she said, the jealousy mingling with pride. "He's made me the luckiest woman in the world."_

_ Brennan silently chided herself at the corny remark, then carefully turned to distract Hannah. "So, what have you been doing? Dating anyone?" _Damn it, Brennan!

_Hannah chuckled. "Ah, there's that straightforward Temperance I've missed. No, I haven't been dating anyone, not since…" Her voice trailed off, and she cleared her throat. "I've been travelling, mainly around North America, but I've been offered a permanent position here in D.C, and," she straightened her spine with pride, the same way Brennan had, "I'm going to take it."_

_ "Permanent?" Brennan half shrieked, her eyes widening. The shock even stopped rationality from kicking in, stopped her from realizing that she wasn't being exactly polite._

_ "That's wonderful!" she covered up quickly, trying to undo her mistake. "It's wonderful, you're back in D.C, and that's-"_

_ "Wonderful," Hannah laughed. "But Temperance, I'm sorry, I just have to say. We both know you're not exactly the one I was looking for. I think I saw Seeley…?"_

_ "Oh." Brennan was curt, the politeness seeping out of her voice. "Um. Yes. Seeley."_

_ Hannah raised her eyebrows, impatient. "Yes?"_

_ "Oh. He's…"_

_ "Hey Bones!" Booth pranced over, the top button of his dress shirt unbuttoned and his own tie thrown loosely around his shoulders. "Okay, pick." Brennan had turned around so that she was covering Hannah, blocking her from his line of sight, and he didn't notice. Instead, he held up two ties. One was white, with an array of children's building blocks scattered around the bottom; the second was black with the words "Proud father" written on the underside._

_ "Seeley." Hannah's voice was hard to read: it was a mix of jealousy, sadness, nostalgia, and excitement. _

_ Booth furrowed his eyebrows, searching Brennan's eyes for a hint. She shut down, however, trying not to let her own jealousy out. Booth, on the other hand, was still confused. Leaning slightly to the right, his eyes searched for the woman who had called his name._

_ Which turned out to be really, really easy._

_ "Hannah!" Booth said, surprise tainting his voice. He reached out, resting a hand on Brennan's shoulder to keep his balance. He straightened, then gently turned Brennan around as he walked around to shake Hannah's hand. "Haven't seen you in…a while."_

_ "Yes, yes," Hannah said, her eyes clearly displaying her confusion. "It's good to see you again, Seeley. I actually wanted to talk to you."_

_ "Oh," Booth said softly, smiling at her awkwardly. "Well, I'm…I'm afraid I don't have time right now. You see, Bones and I," he said, his entire demeanour brightening as he pulled Bones in towards his body with an arm around her shoulders, "we have a very, _very _important case we have to get to." Hoping he wasn't hurting her too much, he dug his fingernails carefully into Bones' shoulder, a small warning._

_ "Yes," she and Hannah chorused, both for different reasons. Hannah ducked her head, and Brennan couldn't help feeling a small wave of triumph in the action: Hannah's actions mirrored hers, the day she'd given Booth the old telephone._

_ "Well," Hannah said quickly, side-stepping in time with Booth, "let me give you my number."_

_ "Not now," Brennan said quickly, again cursing her hormones. "We've got to go, Booth. _Now._"_

_ Hannah raised her eyebrows at Brennan, a little shocked at the sudden burst of jealousy. "Here." She fished a pen out of her purse, then reached out and grabbed Booth's hand forcefully. Booth's eyebrows rose, and his hand slipped from Brennan's shoulder to the small of her back to her hand. His fingers intertwined with hers, a clear signal towards Hannah, who happily chose to ignore it. She wrote her number down quickly, delighting in the way his hand curved in where she wrote, pretending that it wasn't him being ticklish but him holding her closer._

_ Stepping back, Hannah capped her pen and put it into her purse, letting her eyes dart purposefully down to their intertwined fingers before back to Booth's face, ignoring Brennan completely. "I'll call you to set up a _date_. Sound good? Good," she interrupted Booth. "See you later, Seeley." She raised her eyebrows, then turned to leave, bumping into Booth on the way. _

_ Booth stood, shocked, then turned to look at Brennan, his eyes wide and confused. "Bones, did you know she was here?"_

_ "To a certain extent," she muttered, walking forward quickly and tugging him along._

Brennan leaned back again, her eyes fixed on the door. She thought of Booth. She thought of the love they had made, growing inside her belly. She thought of the daughter they would soon get to hold, thought of the smile which had slowly grown on his face after she'd told him she was pregnant. She thought of the way he touched her, always reaching for her. She thought of the time he'd told him why. _It's just, _he'd said slowly, _I've spent so long wanting to be able to do this, to touch you whenever I want to, to run my fingers through your hair and hold your hand and…_ He'd trailed off, leaning forward until his forehead was touching hers, his hands cupping her cheeks and his eyes staring into hers softly, happily.

And she wondered. She wondered if he'd touched Hannah the way he touched her. She wondered if he'd dreamed of a life with her, if he'd imagined a family with her, a life of love.

Love. Huh. Brennan snorted out loud at the thought, wondering whether (no, hoping if) he'd ever truly loved Hannah. If he'd loved Hannah, why had it taken so little time for him to fall back in love with her?

"Brennan?" Angela peeked her head in, her eyebrows raised. "So here's the thing. Cam said she went to give Booth some information, and she ran into a certain woman…?"

"Hannah?" Brennan asked, her voice tinted with jealousy.

"Well, yes," Angela said slowly, walking in. "I get it now! This is why you've been acting so strange. So Hannah's back in town, what's the big deal?"

Brennan stood up slowly, brushing lint off her belly and waddling towards her couch. She sat down slowly, looking down at her feet (or their general direction) as Angela sat down beside her.

"Hannah wants to talk to Booth."

"Of course she wants to talk to Booth," Angela said soothingly. "Hannah used to love Booth. Booth used to love Hannah. But this?" Angela leaned forward, resting her palm on Brennan's stomach. "This kid, this little, alive piece of love you two made, she ties you two together. And this bond is a bond nothing can break. Not even Hannah. Now, sweetie, I know you're jealous-"

"I'm not jealous!" Brennan half-squealed. "I am merely experiencing hormonal imbalance due to pregnancy. I am still rational."

_Look Bones: I love you; that's not rational. Us having a kid - that's not rational. But here we are._

"Yeah, okay," Angela teased. "It's okay to be jealous. You think I don't get jealous when some tramp flirts with Hodgins? You think he doesn't get jealous when men flirt with me?" Angela leaned back, thinking. "It's normal to be jealous. He's your territory."

"Booth is a human being. He is not territory."

"Ha! Yeah right," Angela snorted. "He's your territory. Don't let him go, okay?"

Brennan watched her quizzically, confused. "Meaning?"

"I'm not pointing fingers. Hannah, she's probably just here to tie up loose ends. But if she makes a move towards him," Angela gave a chuckle, standing up and walking towards the door, "you call me. I didn't wait seven years for you guys to get together for nothing."

Brennan gave a small laugh, rubbing her stomach softly. She leaned her head back to watch Angela leave. "Thanks Angie."

"You're welcome sweetie," she said softly, giving her a small smile before she left.

The phone rang shrilly on Brennan's desk, shaking her out of her reverie. Waddling up towards the desk, she picked it up and held it up to her ear cautiously. "Hello?"

"Hey, Bones! Can I ask you something?"

His voice filled her with pleasure, and she couldn't help but feel like she was melting. This hormonal change was one she could understand, one she could love. "Yes, Booth?"

"Hannah asked me to go out to dinner today but I won't go if you don't want me to because I love you," he said quickly, rushing. "I love you," he repeated. "I don't want you to be jealous-"

"Why does everyone think I'm jealous?"

"Or take this the wrong way," he finished, a smile in his voice. "I love you. And look, if I go you're coming along."

"No, Booth," she said softly, thinking. "You go. This pregnancy's keeping me down. Look, you know what I'll do? I'll invite Angela over. We'll make a night of it. Just don't be home too late," she teased sadly.

Booth was quiet for a moment, obviously thinking. She could almost see him, thinking, debating if it was worth arguing. "Okay," he said slowly, his voice cautious. "I'll see you later, baby."

"Later," she said, hanging up, leaving Booth on the line listening to the dial tone, with only two thoughts on his mind.

_She let me call her baby._

_ And she didn't say goodbye._

__**So, what do you guys think? Reviews? Don't worry, Hannah will be disappointed and Brennan will be triumphant!**

**I'm probably going to write a one-shot before I do the next chapter, and I'm planning on making the next chapter Booth's POV...opinions?**

**Happy 2012! ^^**


	3. So Close Yet So Far Away

**Okay, here we go! Sorry I haven't updated in so long, I decided to be a good student and study for finals. Then I realized that I'm not a good student and that this is a lot more fun ;P**

**THANK YOU FOR ALL THE REVIEWS! I took a couple of ideas from them, if you guys don't mind, a.k.a a wide opinion was that the dinner had to be public, non-romantic, or as per one opinion, not a dinner at all. However this chapter doesn't go that far, the 'dinner' will most likely be in the next chapter.**

**So, okay! This is a little more angsty, especially the ending, and I must remind you guys that if you stick with me, I will pull through and make Hannah regret ever dating Booth, but for now let's just say...the higher you are, the harder you fall. Also it's written in three P.O.V's: Booth's, Brennan's, and Angela's.**

**I also discovered this great button called 'insert horizontal line' today. Sure makes it easier to separate the parts of this chapter.**

**(Let me just say, I do believe I've uploaded this third chapter before Stevens Angel uploaded her third chapter to 'of reading', so... *coughupdatealreadycough*)**

* * *

><p>(Booth's POV)<p>

Booth leaned back in his chair, still holding the phone in his hand. A million emotions were jumbled in his mind, and sorting them out was near impossible.

Damn it! Half-slamming the phone down onto his desk, Booth stretched his arms and growled. What an idiot he was. Why had he let Hannah write down her phone number on his hand? No matter how many times he washed them, there was still a faint outline, and it made him feel…so, so wrong. Like he was cheating on Bones. As if that wasn't enough to make him want to throw up, there was a faint push of guilt at abandoning Hannah. Well, not abandoning, but leaving it so open. She'd said she didn't think this was over…the guilt he felt was not because he still liked her, but because she still liked him.

Booth leaned back, scrubbing his face with his hands. But Bones! Poor Bones. How could he do that to her? He imagined her, sitting in her office…crying? No, Bones wouldn't cry, not without him. It sounded stupid, but he knew her. He knew she forced herself to be rational, much too rational; he knew she wouldn't cry until he was there to hold her, until he reminded her that this was not rational. They weren't rational.

Had he ever loved Hannah? It was hard to know if he had. If it had been love, it certainly didn't compare to the way he loved Bones. Once upon a time he had imagined a future with Hannah, but that future paled compared to the one he saw with Bones. Everything he had with Hannah, it was nothing when compared to what he had with Bones.

Booth idly picked up the phone, debating on who to call first. If he called Hannah first and cancelled, or maybe changed the date to a coffee and not dinner, then he'd have something nice to tell Brennan. But if he called Bones first, then there would be no chance that she'd be jealous.

Someone knocked on the door, and Booth immediately straightened, trying to maintain that sense of perfection and control. "Come in!"

Sweets walked in carefully, observing Booth and making sure he was calm (or at least seemed to be). "Hello, Agent Booth."

"Get it over with, Sweets," Booth immediately said, trying to keep the annoyed tone out of his voice. "I'm busy."

"Okay," he said quickly, walking closer. "I ran into someone in the elevator."

"Get it over with."

"Hannah," he said quickly. "I ran into Hannah and I talked to her for a while."

"You talked to her?" Booth stood up quickly, slamming his hands down onto the desk. "You talked to her, Sweets? What was your twelve-year-old brain thinking?"

"I had to, she looked awfully smug and I couldn't let her just leave, I had to know why she was here!" Sweets held up his hands in front of him, fending Booth off. "Look, I was acting as your friend, not your psychologist."

"What," Booth asked, seething, "did you ask her?"

Still holding up his hands, Sweets inched forward. "I asked her how she was, why she was back. She said she had accepted a permanent job here in D.C, and that she wanted to catch up with you. So, okay, don't kill me. I told her how you were seeing and how you two were having a baby girl. I tried not to act smug," Sweets added quickly, "but she was giving off signals as if she wanted to get back together with you."

Booth sat back down slowly, still looking at Sweets. "Psychologically. Why would you say she's back?"

"As a psychologist?" Sweets paused, thinking. "As a psychologist, I think she's not over you yet. You guys didn't have much closure, and I think she still believes she has a chance with you."

"Damn it," Booth muttered, leaning forward. "Okay, Sweets, I'm busy now."

"Wait," he said quickly. "I have to ask you. Does know you guys are going for dinner?"

Booth leaned forward, thinking. He was torn between making Sweets leave and figuring out his problems by himself, or asking Sweets to stay and give his advice. Sweets' advice never really worked out for him, but it was worth the try. "Okay, yes, she does. I called her, and she acted all nonchalant about it, the way she does when she's trying not to let me know how she really feels about it. She said she'd invite Angela over for a girl's night. Do you really think she'd do that?"

Sweets inched closer, the way he did when he was trying not to screw up his chance to give Booth advice. "Well, I think Hannah deserves closure, as do you. As much as you think you've moved on -"

"I have moved on!" Booth interrupted. "I'm with Bones. I love Bones. I. Love. Bones."

"I'm not saying you don't," Sweets immediately said, taking a step back. "I know you do. But closure is an important last step in any relationship. You guys should have one last meal. But not dinner."

"Not dinner."

"No, of course not! Dinner is traditionally the kind of thing that couples do. You and Hannah should have a coffee, maybe lunch; not dinner. This is one of the few things that probably understands and that may have made her a little more jealous than normal."

"Oh." Booth thought about that. It was true: whenever he asked a woman on a date, it was always for dinner. Except for Bones. _But let's face it, _he thought lovingly, _nothing is normal when it comes to Bones and I._

"So here's what you should do." Sweets had inched forward again so that he was standing at the corner of Booth's desk. "Go home tonight, have dinner with , make sure she knows you love her and that the things between you and Hannah are over. Then tomorrow take Hannah out for coffee. Lunch is sort of your thing with Dr. B, so I suggest not doing that. Maybe after work? Make sure she knows nothing is going on between you two, and that you don't want a relationship with her. There. Problem solved."

Booth looked Sweets over. It was a little strange for him to actually think Sweets' advice was valid. It had sure sounded valid, and certainly good, at that. "I'll try it, but if it doesn't work, your head will roll."

Sweets wrinkled his nose. "You tell me how it works out, okay?" With that, he turned around and left, leaving Booth to think about what could happen if his plan didn't work out.

* * *

><p>(Brennan's POV)<p>

Nausea was a pregnancy symptom. It was a pregnancy symptom, Brennan told herself, and therefore it was natural for her to be nauseous. She was supposed to be nauseous.

It was pregnancy, not the thoughts that were running through her head.

Her stomach heaved, and she pressed her lips together at the thought. All she could imagine was Booth and Hannah, together. Booth and Hannah, having dinner. Booth and Hannah, admitting that they were perfect together and shouldn't have ever broken up.

There was a soft knock at the door. "Bones?"

Brennan jumped up, immediately regretting her decision. Grasping the arm of the couch, she squeezed her eyes shut and waited for her dizziness to subside.

The knocks became more persistent. "Bones? Are you okay?"

"Come in," she said weakly, then stronger, louder. "Come in!" Quickly but carefully, she sat back down and leaned back into the cushions, trying to appear in control.

Booth leaned in, peeking through the door carefully. Seeing her on the sofa, he crept in cautiously, mentally berating himself for having ever put Bones through this kind of pain. Slowly, he sat down beside Brennan, watching her. She had her eyes focused on his, her body relaxed into the cushions, her hands rested on her belly and the tips of her fingers unconsciously rubbing in small circles. Her ankles were crossed, the swelling slowly decreasing.

"Hey," Booth said softly, sitting by her side. He made sure to keep close without touching her, hoping that she understood the way he was feeling.

"Hi," Brennan said cautiously. "Aren't you supposed to be getting ready for your dinner with Hannah?"

Booth leaned back, his pose mimicking Brennan's. "That's what I wanted to talk to you about. I've decided not to take Hannah out for dinner tonight."

"You did?" Brennan couldn't help but let a little bit of the hope and joy she was feeling slipping into her voice. She sat up a little bit straighter, spreading her palms wider on her stomach.

Booth smiled, happy he'd made her feel better. "Yeah, I did. You see, I realized that the only woman I want to have dinner with was sitting in her office, all alone -" he made sure to keep out any mentions of her being jealous or angry, not wanting to rile up her hormones and mood swings, "- and I wanted to be with her. So I decided that if Hannah wants to talk to me, she can do it over a coffee break."

Brennan ducked her head, letting her hair hide the joyous blush that colored her cheeks. As much as she scoffed about Booth acting like an alpha male, as much as she pretended that love was a rational thing she understood, she loved these moments where she was able to let go of it all and simply, truly believe that Booth was hers. Territorial, she knew, but still; the best moments with Booth were those when she quit being an anthropologist and simply became a woman in love. Looking up through her eyelashes, she gave him a small smile before leaning into him, maneuvering her belly so that she could get as close to him as she could.

Booth wrapped his arms around her, resting both his hands on her belly and rubbing small circles with his palms. "So what do you want to do? Would you rather stay in and have a romantic dinner at our apartment, or would you rather go out to a restaurant?"

Brennan tucked her head down under his chin, thinking. "I'm tired, can we just stay in?"

"Of course," he murmured, pressing his lips to her hair. "I'm sorry, but I have to go back to work. I made up an excuse about the case, and they're bound to figure it out eventually, right?"

Brennan chuckled, leaning back again but keeping a hold on his hand. "Go ahead, I have to work anyways. Can you pick me up at seven?"

Booth stood up, rubbing his fingers across her knuckles a couple of times before stroking her hair and gently disentangling their fingers. "Seven."

Brennan smiled, letting her hands fall down on her belly and (irrationally) feeling a pang in her chest as he strode away.

* * *

><p>(Angela's POV)<p>

Angela strode across the floor of her office, shuffling through papers and notes. Her part in this case was minimal: it was a pretty straightforward case, with everything leading to one suspect, so she spent most of her time thinking of ways to update the Angelatron.

Well, that, and pining for Michael. She couldn't help but feel bad about leaving him in a daycare, although a lot of people who worked at the Jeffersonian left their kids at the daycare. Hodgins had admitted that he missed Michael as well, and that had made her feel a little better.

Today, though, both Angelatron and Michael thoughts had been put aside in favour of thoughts about Booth and Brennan. She'd known Brennan for what felt since forever, and she knew the way her friend worked. She knew that if Hannah told Brennan that she and Booth didn't belong together, Brennan would believe her. Brennan had been hurt one too many times by love to believe in it too much.

Angela sighed, pacing back and forth. She'd waited so long for Brennan and Booth to admit their love. Over six painful years, she'd watched as Booth had spiralled deeper and deeper into love, and Brennan had tried to stop herself from following Booth down that road. She'd tried to push them together and failed, again and again. At first she thought she'd just been living vicariously through Brennan, but even after she herself had created a dream life with Hodgins (and now Michael), she'd still felt that familiar hurt when she wasn't able to see the two together.

And then, just when she'd thought she'd never see Booth and Brennan fall in love, Brennan had admitted, her fingers caressing a skull, that she'd crawled into bed with Booth. And then, finally, everything had fallen into place. Finally, a dream had come true.

Now Hannah was back. Hannah was back and Brennan was pregnant and Booth was torn. She knew the way he felt; she'd felt the same way when she'd learned about Grayson and his 'never-ending love' for her. As much as she loved Hodgins, as much as she wanted to marry him and have a future with him and fall in love with him every morning, over and over and over; she'd felt guilty at the pain that Grayson felt. She could imagine that Booth felt the same way, but heightened: Hodgins had always trusted her, known that they loved each other and that nothing could break them apart. Booth, however, had Brennan, and loved her and trusted her and felt an undeniable urge to protect her. But Brennan, as much as she tried to allow herself to feel the same way, still wasn't completely convinced that Booth could love her.

Angela groaned, still pacing the floor. She loved Brennan and wanted her to be happy. She loved Booth and wanted him to be happy with Brennan. And Hannah? Hannah had once been a nice little addition to their lives, but she had been temporary. As much as she'd tried, Hannah had never truly fit in with the rest of their group; as much as they lied, everyone had always felt a little resentful towards her for keeping their favorite couple apart.

Hannah did not belong. She didn't fit in with their group and she didn't belong with Booth. And she definetly, certainly, shouldn't have come back.

"Angela!" someone hollered, and Angela gave a weak sigh, putting down her papers and heading out the door of her office-

-just in time to be run into by Hodgins. Clark ran along behind him, narrowly avoiding running into the two of them.

Hodgins grabbed a hold of Angela's shoulders, a wild look in his eyes. "Angela - Brennan - Cam - Brennan - Hannah - asking -" he panted, words spit out randomly and breaths coming in quickly. "Angela - Brennan…"

"What is trying to say," Clark burst in, "Is that you've got to go warn Brennan -"

"Warn Brennan about what?" Angela looked desperately from one exhausted man to another, trying go get enough information to actually be helpful. Hodgins was still clutching desperately at one of Angela's shoulders (the other had fallen down to his stomach, which he clutched even tighter as he struggled to control his breathing); Clark was holding up one finger and counting his breaths.

"Brennan…" Hodgins choked out, "Hannah's asking for…"

"Hannah is asking for ," Clark said, recovering faster than Hodgins. "Cam's trying to keep her from finding her. Hannah doesn't look very happy."

"Oh, my God!" Angela pushed away the two half-dead men and set off at a brisk pace towards Brennan's office. Out of the corner of her eye she caught a glimpse of Hannah arguing with Cam, both of her hands gesturing madly. Cam stood proudly, her shoulders back and her arms crossed, chin up defiantly. "Dr. Brennan is busy with a case," she kept repeating.

Angela huffed, reaching Brennan's office and yanking her door open.

Brennan looked up, her rational demeanour faltering at the panic in Angela's face. "Ange? You okay?"

"Awkward, awkward, very very awkward," she said, walking forward with her hands in front of her in surrender. "Hannah's asking for you and Cam's trying to keep her away but I don't think she can convince her much longer. Do you want me to talk to her?"

"Why?" Brennan asked. "I'll talk to her-"

"No!" Cam stuck her head in, eyes wide. "No, , we need you for this case and I want both you and Hannah to live."

"What? Hannah won't kill me." Brennan stood up, more cautiously this time, then pushed through the two ladies using her large belly to push them apart. "I'll be fine."

"It's not Hannah who's going to kill you," Angela muttered, turning to Cam. "Rock paper scissors who has to pull the two apart if they get into a catfight."

Cam gave a wry smile, following Angela out the door after Brennan.

The two were standing by the platform, both looking slightly hostile. Hannah was slightly threatening, her arms still gesturing and her head held back. In front of her, Brennan's belly made her appear hostile instead of vulnerable, her arms crossed over it, her legs spread slightly to balance out her weight.

"…don't understand why Booth cancelled," Hannah was saying. "He seemed very happy about going to dinner with me when I first gave him a call. But suddenly he calls me and says he wants to go out for coffee tomorrow instead? What's up with that?"

"Maybe he's busy tonight," Brennan retorted, her anger level rising. "Maybe he'd rather spend his nights with me than with you."

" I know you two are together and all," Hannah said, her anger level rising as well, "but I really need to talk to him. I haven't seen him in forever, and we both know - as you always say - he isn't your territory. He's allowed to do what he wants."

"And he wants to spend his evenings and nights with Brennan!"

Both women turned towards Angela, who was more hostile than the both of them combined. Nine months of pregnancy hormones, combined with eight months of no sleep, had made Angela extremely prone to exploding, and Hannah messing with Brennan had been the last straw. Taking a threatening step forward, she unlocked her arms and moved her body to stand slightly between Hannah and Brennan, in a defensive position.

"Booth," Angela said, "is in love with Brennan. They are having a kid together. He is allowed to what he wants. And it just so happens, that he would rather have dinner with Brennan than with you."

Hannah took a step back, narrowing her eyes. "I haven't seen Booth in nearly a year. I have every right to ask him to have dinner with me. I also have every right for my invitation to be accepted. And Temperance here, as you said, is in a relationship with Seeley. She most likely has dinner with them every night. When I was going out with Seeley, he would often go out for dinner with Brennan instead of with me."

"Maybe you should take a hint." By now Angela had peaked with anger, Hannah was bursting with jealousy and fury, and Brennan was looking impressed. "If you and Booth had really been in love, he'd have acknowledged that you were jealous and have stayed with you. But let's face it, you two were never meant to be together." Angela breathed out, calming down slightly. "I hate to be mean, Hannah, but it's true. You and Booth, you guys may have had a thing going, but he never truly loved you. I'm sorry, Hannah, but it's true."

Hannah fumed, looking from one woman to another: Angela still threatening, Brennan impressed but slightly scared. "Maybe it's not that Booth didn't acknowledge my jealousy," she said threateningly. She looked Brennan up and down, her eyes focusing pointedly on her rounded belly. "Maybe it's because I had nothing to be jealous of." Stepping around Angela, she pulled closer to Brennan. "Haven't you ever thought that it's strange, that not only did Booth bounce back from me so quickly, but that he knocked you up the moment you two started a relationship? In fact, your pregnancy started this relationship. Do you really think these things last? I don't want to see you get hurt, Brennan-"

"He doesn't love you," Brennan spat out. "He never loved you, Hannah. He loves me."

"How can you be so certain?"

Angela, her anger rising again, took a threatening step forward; but it was too late. Hannah strode away in triumph, Brennan spun on her heels and staggered towards her office, and Cam dropped her head in defeat, feeling wave after wave of sadness as she watched her people, her family, fall apart.

**I actually hate this ending myself because I'm so anxious to know what happens next. I'm also wondering how long I can drag this on. I know Crazydancer108 's idea didn't work out exactly like I planned - I think we all expected Hannah to walk out defeated - but never fear, Angela's a hell of a loyal friend and I sincerely doubt this story's going to end without her (at least coming extremely close to) ripping out Hannah's throat!**

**Reviews? Please don't kill me. **


	4. No Space for a Third Wheel

**Let me just say, you all should be really happy I have no determination whatsoever when it comes to studying.**

**Thank you all for the reviews, as usual! It was a popular opinion that I couldn't drag this out too long so I didn't.**

**This is, sadly (or not), the last chapter, and I've gotta say, writing this was really, really fun! I now love this website. So expect more stories from me after this one! ****As for the ending, well, let me start by saying there are a lot of POV's. Hannah's is one of them (don't hate me!), but overall I actually really like the way this turned out. **

**Hope you guys enjoyed this, I had an awesome time (best winter break EVER).**

**(Side note to Steven's Angel: I finished this...your turn)**

* * *

><p>(Cam's POV)<p>

The entire lab was a mess. The world seemed to slow, almost to a stop, before everything picked up at a fast and furious pace. Clark turned and walked away, settling back into old ways and choosing work over play. Hodgins, after an awkward pause in which he watched his wife closely to make sure she didn't strangle someone (particularly Hannah, whom was still dangerously close when it came to Angela), before scurrying after Hannah to escort her out of the building.

With only Angela and Cam left, there were two jobs left to be done: someone had to go after Brennan and make sure the stress didn't cause labour, and someone had to call Booth.

Cam turned around almost immediately, heading towards her office, already pulling her phone out and dialing Booth's number.

"What are you doing?" Angela ran after her. "You've got to go talk to Brennan."

Cam spun on her heel, crossing her arms and tilting her head so that her ponytail swished. "I'm calling Booth. Dr. Brennan needs to talk to you right now, not me. She won't respond to me."

Angela let out a breath, filled with a hazy anger. It was clear that she'd been planning to scream and shout at Booth, which was the other reason Cam didn't want her to talk to him. Booth was going to freak out. Of course he was. If anyone ever breathed a word of hatred towards Brennan, it set him off. It wasn't going to help, having Angela and Booth screaming at each other. It was much better for her to call him herself.

So instead, Cam sent Angela off after Brennan. She fumed a little, then walked slowly, taking a breath with each step and trying to let out all the stress before reaching Brennan's office. Cam watched her for a while before spinning back into her own office.

She hesitated, though, before pressing the 'call' button. She knew better than to let herself simply call: she had to say all the right things, as well as make sure he wasn't interviewing a witness or doing anything remotely important. After running the argument through her head again, she pressed 'call' and listened to the phone ring.

"Booth."

"Hey, it's Cam."

"Updates on the case?"

"Actually, no." Cam hesitated. "Are you busy? In the car?"

Booth paused, and the line was quiet except for the sounds of his breathing. "No, I'm in my office. I'm pretty much done for the day."

Cam gave out a sigh of relief, thanking god that she had at least a little luck. "Well, we've had a little incident here at the lab."

There was a clash and a clatter on the other side of the line, then Booth's desperate voice: "Is it Bones? Is the baby okay? Is she in labour?"

"Calm down, Booth!" Cam scolded, mentally berating herself. "She's fine. For the most part."

Booth's laboured breath filled the silence, and it took a minute for him to calm down. "What happened?"

Cam looked down at the desk in front of her, wondering how to put it. "Promise me you'll let me finish and you won't freak out until I'm done."

Booth's agreement immediately came through the line, tinted with a little bit of resentment.

"Hannah showed up here at the lab. She had a little run in with Brennan. She seemed to be annoyed that you cancelled dinner in exchange for a coffee, and thought it had something to do with Brennan." Cam took a breath. "Angela stepped in and they had a little catfight. Angela said that you never really loved her and she wasn't exactly very happy with that. Hannah told Brennan that she wasn't jealous of her because there was nothing to be jealous of." The sharp intake of breath on the other side of the line made her speed up, nervous. "Anyways, she said your relationship wouldn't last. In the end Hannah walked off and Brennan sort of freaked and went back into her office. Angela's calming her down now."

For a short while, Booth didn't say a thing. The awkwardness filled the silence, choking, and she immediately picked up again. "She'll calm down. I just wanted you to know." She paused. "We're all here for you two.

Again the silence filled the line, but it was short this time, interrupted by a sharp slam and a dial tone.

* * *

><p>(Booth's POV)<p>

Booth wanted to strangle Hannah. He wanted to strangle Sweets. He wanted to strangle Cam and Angela and Hodgins and Clark. Bones was the only person he didn't want to kill- she, he wanted to hold close and comfort.

He paced from side to side in front of his desk. The moment he'd hung up he'd warned Caroline that he didn't want anyone around, he'd closed the blinds and locked the door and begun pacing.

He wanted to act on his instincts. He wanted to call Hannah and scream until he was hoarse and until she'd run away. He wanted to call Cam and scream at her for telling him. He wanted to scream at Angela for not protecting Bones more. He wanted to scream at Hodgins and Clark, just for the hell of it. And then, he wanted to go home and comfort his wife. He wanted to tell her every single reason he loved her, even if it took days. He wanted to touch her skin and kiss her lips and look into her eyes, get lost in them. Even if it took years, he would convince her that he loved her. He loved her, more than anything in this world, more than words could say.

And then, when she was safely and soundly asleep, he'd down a bottle of whiskey.

Of course, that wouldn't have been very good to him. Instead he had to think. Be rational, such as his wonderful wife.

It was nice to think of her as his wife. It had been something he'd been doing for a while, even though they weren't married, and never out loud. There was just something so seductive about the idea: a ring on her finger, a white gauzy dress, a room with a rose-covered bed and a million lit candles.

Booth leaned on the corner of his desk, thinking. He wouldn't call Cam, because she'd already done all she could. He wouldn't call the squinterns or Hodgins, because they really hadn't done anything. He wouldn't call Hannah.

He would, however, call Angela. He would ask her how Bones was and thank her for being such a good friend. He'd call Sweets and take out a little bit of his anger on him - Sweets was bound to know about this anyways. He'd send Hannah a text, although that was something he'd probably have to think over. And then, he'd go home and hold Bones close, tell her the millions of reasons he loved her.

He started with Angela. The phone rang what felt like a hundred times before she answered, her voice quiet. "Hello?"

"It's Booth."

"Hey, Booth." Angela didn't pause to let him ask, simply barrelling on instead. "Booth, she's distraught. I've been talking to her and she's almost crying. I got to her, though: I told her all about how you love her and how the kid's going to keep you two together. She cried a little and she's, well, she's asleep now. I'm taking her home."

Booth was quiet, distraught. He couldn't think over the pain in his chest, the pain of her sobs and her tears and her broken heart echoed in his own chest. He said something to Angela: something about how thankful he was and how he'd go home and comfort her soon. Then he hung up, holding the phone and listening to the throb of his heart.

He couldn't remember much after that. He had called Sweets, chewed him out about the stupid plan which had backfired. He had gotten into his car and driven home. He'd changed, and after ensuring she wasn't at his apartment, he'd gone to hers.

He felt like he was simply going through the motions. He walked up the stairs when he found no elevators. He slipped the key in and turned it, the door opening quietly on its hinges. He walked in, gently closing and locking the door behind him, already looking for her. He'd expected to find her working, taking control of her life. It was her own rebellion against pregnancy: proving that she wasn't crippled. He'd expected her to be cooking, or reading, or working. Anything but what he found.

She was sitting on the couch, her legs outstretched in front of her. She was wearing a pair of sweats and one of his shirts, stretched over her belly. Her hands were folded over her belly, her back was bent slightly over the arm of the couch, and she was staring at her feet. Thinking.

_Damn it, she was thinking!_

Booth slipped closer, and she looked up at him, vulnerable. Her eyes were red from crying, her lips thin and pressed together. A tremor ran through her body as she watched him walk closer, but she flinched, pulling slightly away.

She was scared. She didn't think he loved him. She thought he loved Hannah.

A bunch of emotions jumbled in his belly as he watched her. Pain for her. Anger at Hannah. Remorse at having hurt her.

He walked closer still, sitting down at the other end of the couch and slowly, gently pulling her feet into his lap. His fingers massaged slowly, trying to decrease the swelling. She breathed unevenly, tears beginning to slip out again. He worked up, fingers still moving in small circles, massaging her ankles.

He could've gone slowly. He could've massaged all the way up her legs, up her belly, until he could reach her lips. But he didn't have to.

She pulled herself to him, carefully folding and unfolding herself until she had turned a hundred and eighty degrees, until her head was rested on his shoulder. He moved slowly, trying not to startle her, slowly threading one hand up to her scalp, massaging slowly and stroking her hair. His other hand moved down to her belly, tracing letters and words and love into her skin. She pulled each of her legs slowly over his, pulling herself closer so her belly was the only thing between them. She threaded one arm up over his shoulders so that she held him closer, the other she pressed over his hand.

And so they sat. It could've been minutes, it could've been hours. His lips played with her hair and his fingers with her skin. And at some time, at some moment, they fell asleep.

* * *

><p>(Brennan's POV)<p>

She woke up cradled in his arms. They only just barely fit on the couch, his back pressed tightly to the back of the couch, her back pressed tightly to his front. His face was buried in her hair, one of his hands was thrown over her belly, palm open. Their legs were intertwined, holding them together.

She loved this. It was nearly impossible to describe this feeling, this contentment she felt. There was still an echo of pain in her chest, but it was stifled by this. She felt comforted, safe in his arms.

He moved, his breath blowing her hair, a small sigh leaving his lips. His legs pulled in closer to his body, pulling hers along with him. His hand pressed into her belly, pulling her closer as well, his fingers curled and flexed, gently massaging.

"Good morning," he whispered, his breath tingling he back of her neck, followed closely by his kiss.

"Good morning," she whispered back, stretching against him and turning onto her back so she could look at him. His eyes shone into hers, and his lips pressed against them. He sat up, groaning and stretching his back, cupping her cheek with one hand. He slipped his legs under her carefully, then leaned down to press his lips to her belly.

"Good morning, baby," he whispered.

Brennan chuckled, loving the way he spoke to her, his voice like syrup on waffles. She pulled herself up and off him, padding into the kitchen for breakfast.

The morning flew by. He made her breakfast and drove her to work. He parked the car in front of the door, then leaned in to kiss her. She could taste coffee and honey, and she smiled. She climbed out of the car carefully, supporting herself and leading with her belly, letting herself adjust to a new center of gravity.

The small snap of the door closing was echoed in a small chime of his phone. He picked it up to find a message from Hannah:

_**Coffee today at 3, Royal Diner. You in?**_

He pressed his lips together, wanting to throw his phone out the window. His fingers flexed, itching to text her back something snide, rude. Instead, he answered with a simple letter.

_**K.**_

* * *

><p>(Hannah's POV)<p>

She sat in the diner, crossing and uncrossing her legs. She looked out the window, waiting for him to walk in, a certain sense of thrill in her chest.

She'd blown it, and she knew it. She had no doubt that Seeley would never talk to her again, that it was nothing short of a miracle that he'd answered and agreed to come. Actually, it was nothing short of a miracle that she hadn't been killed yet. Even if it hadn't been him to do it, they had a million friends who would've killed her for them.

So she waited. She already had everything ready in front of her: two cups of coffee, two plates of pie. She thought about what it was like when he sat here with Temperance. She didn't eat pie. She 'didn't like her fruit cooked'.

The car rolled in slowly, parking in front. He climbed out, slamming the door, everything about him threatening, from his perfectly straight back to the sharp creases in his pants. He walked in, pushing open the door, the only color in his outfit coming from the red "Cocky" belt buckle that shone on his hips.

He didn't even sit. He stood by her side, his long fingers tapping the corner of the table.

"Here's the deal, Hannah," he said slowly. "I heard what you did to Bones. I know what you said to her and I know how it hurt her. I don't care if you spend the rest of your life in D.C. I don't care if you spend every single minute hating her. All I care about is that you never talk to her again. Never touch her, never come close to her. Don't ever darken our doorstep."

She looked up, the simpering she'd been planning to do long gone from her mind. "She deserved it. She doesn't deserve you. I deserve you."

"If you did, you would never have walked away." He straightened up and she turned down to the plate in front of her, clearing her throat awkwardly.

"You had your chance, Hannah. You had it, and you blew it. But this is my chance with her. This is my chance to prove to her I love her. This is my chance to love her." She looked up, remorse in her eyes. "This is my chance, and I'm not letting you ruin it."

With that, he turned around and walked away.

Hannah leaned back, her dirty blonde hair sweeping over her shoulders. She wanted to cry, she really did. She wanted to run after him. She even had a small desire to kill Temperance.

But he was right. He was horribly, terrifyingly right. She could scream and shout at Temperance. She could take her down using just her words. But Seeley? She could never hurt him. She could never even come close to hurting him. And if the price was not hurting Temperance, well, it was a price she had to pay.

She didn't eat the pie and she didn't drink the coffee. She left a twenty on the table. But she was sure to do one thing before she left: she took a napkin and folded it, putting it in her pocket as a small reminder that she could never hurt him, that it was his life and that there was no space in it for her. Not anymore.

* * *

><p>(Brennan's POV)<p>

She worked for hours on end, every once in a while glancing at her watch. It was a trait she'd long since gotten rid of, and thus confused Clark, who wasn't used to seeing her so nervous.

She worked past three, ignoring the pain in her stomach. She worked past three-oh-five. Three-ten. Three-fifteen. Three-twenty.

And then the door opened.

"I'm working, Ange," she said quickly. "I'll talk to you later."

"I'll make this quick."

The quiet voice shattered her reality, and she spun around on her heels, her belly swinging out in front of her. She grasped the cold metal of the autopsy table, her view blurring and clearing in the space of a second.

Hannah was standing by the door, her eyeliner-rimmed eyes red. She imagined she'd looked the same way herself last night, and felt a wave of guilt run over her before disappearing, replaced by a wave of contempt.

"Hannah, I am currently working on a case and am very busy -"

"I'll make this quick," she repeated. "I'm here because of Seeley."

Brennan didn't answer. Her stomach contracted, pain rippling through her.

"I'm here because he told me to stay away from you." She pressed her lips together. "He was right. He loves you, Temperance. I can see." She paused again, licking the corners of her lips. "I'm going to leave. I can't stay in Washington, not with you guys here. I'd be too scared the FBI would track me down." A wry smile pulled up her lips. "I'm leaving. I'm hoping that you guys will be happy together, because that makes Seeley happy." She stepped closer. "I don't like you much anymore, Temperance. I'm sorry about that, but it's the truth. But if you make Seeley happy," she sighed. "Then you two deserve the world."

She paused at the door, before turning around and walking away, leaving Brennan feeling a relief, joy, and just the tiniest bit of sadness as she left.

* * *

><p>(No one's POV in particular)<p>

**Two weeks later**

"Hannah!"

Angela ran after Hannah, her heels clicking on the sidewalk. "Hannah! Wait up!"

It was pure luck that Angela's plan was working. It hadn't even been well-formed enough to be considered a plan. She'd loved the idea, especially considering the way it worked with Hodgins, but she hadn't been sure it would work with her. It wasn't really a plan, more like a fantasy. She hadn't even expected that Hannah was still in Washington.

Hannah paused, turning around. Her worry was turned into fear the moment she turned, but it diminished at the smile on Angela's face. "Hey, Angela."

"Hey," she panted. "I have a present for you." Out of her bag, Angela pulled out a Darth Vader plushie she'd found in a nearby store. Hannah gave an awkward smile, taking it carefully and smiling at it before stowing it away in her own bag.

"I also have to introduce you to someone before you leave." She turned around and grabbed his hand, pulling him closer.

"Hannah," Angela said, proudly and deviously, "this is my dad."

Billy stretched out his hand, shaking Hannah's. "You're a beautiful woman," he said gruffly. "How bout I take you out for one last drink in Washington?"

Hannah gave a small smile. She was happy, extremely happy, to know that she had at least one friend left in Washington.

Or so she thought.

Billy dragged Hannah off quickly, already talking to her rapidly, already deceiving her, lulling her into a sense of safety; leaving Angela standing on the sidewalk with a pleased smile on her face.

* * *

><p><strong>The next day<strong>

Hannah woke up groggily, her senses dimmed and dulled by the remnants of the alcohol in her system. She coughed, the burning in her throat strengthening before subsiding, and she tried to stretch.

She was lying in an alley, she realized. She was lying in an alley, her hair dirty, her body curled into a wire fence. She groaned, trying to stand, immediately succumbing to the intense nausea that rolled over her in waves.

She threw up once, twice, three times before the nausea subsided and she could begin to focus. There was a note in her hand, she realized. A note written on the napkin she'd taken from the Royal Diner.

_I had a great time with you last night. I guess you have a really low tolerance, because you went wild. I tried to talk you out of it, but you said you really wanted that tattoo. Have fun wherever you're going._

Tattoo?

Hannah groaned, looking down at her forearm, where a large bandage was wrapped around and held down by tape. She pulled it off quickly, scared of what she was going to see.

_Seeley Booth and Temperance Brennan, _it said in curly handwriting, centered in the middle of a heart. _Love that lasts forever._

Which was, let's face it, a way better reminder than a napkin.

**The End**

* * *

><p><strong>I hope you guys enjoyed this! Now I'm going to take a break and cry before I start actually studying tomorrow.<strong>


End file.
